Page 28 of A Vow of Blood and Tears

Roses. All around us, roses by the thousands.

The courtyard was in the middle of the keep, surrounded on all sides by the high, dark walls of Ravenscry, and it was large enough to almost serve as a park.

In the day, it would be a fairy tale. By night, with the crescent moon gleaming overhead, it was a dark shadow whispering of romance and seduction. The roses grew on everything, climbing up the walls of the castle, twining around stone balustrades.

More of Bane’s legions were here, patrolling the edges of the courtyard, keeping watch from balconies high overhead. There was no escape from the sensation of eyes watching me.

“This is a holy place,” Wyn said in a low voice. “The bloodroses and their thorns are sacred to our Mother. You will find no ritual conducted by our kind that doesn’t take her symbols into account, and we treat this garden with great reverence.”

I read between the lines: if I damaged anything in this garden in an attempt to flee, they would find me wanting, and the punishment was unlikely to be pleasant.

The smooth trail of stones underfoot brought us through the Bloodgarden in a winding path, and Wyn finally slowed as we approached a fountain set in the wall.

But it was not just any fountain; where the face of a protective gargoyle or green man might have been carved in a human’s garden, in this one there was a pale bust of a woman, her head tipped back, eyes closed, mouth open to revealgleaming marble fangs. Her cupped hands formed the bowl of the fountain.

I swallowed hard, staring at that empty bowl and wondering if it was truly meant for water, or something thicker.

“Stand here,” Wyn said quietly, positioning me to the left of the fountain. “This will be a small, quick ceremony. Don’t worry, Cirrien dear; we’ll be with you every step of the way, and by midnight you’ll be wed and the Accords will be met.”

I laced my hands in front of myself, mouth dry, heart pounding a rapid tattoo against my breastbone.

Thus far I had managed to maintain my composure in this marriage.

So long as I didn’t think about what cameafterthe vampires considered us properly married.

For a few brief minutes, it was only Wyn and me by the fountain, and despite the easy quiet around us, my heart beat faster and faster. Several shadows slipped from the darkness on silent feet; vampires, all of them, looking like courtiers in intricate brocade and jewels.

Their thin pupils fixed on me, some skeptical, others reassured as they glanced between me and the bloodwitch. Perhaps they were expecting me to have to be hogtied, but Wyn did not have so much as a finger prepared to grab me.

This is for Veladar, I reminded myself.This keeps the wolf from the door.

I recognized Visca as she stepped into the courtyard, her friendly, crooked smile wide. She still wore her armor, but she held out an arm like a gentleman, ushering an even more massive shadow past herself. I had to crane my head to find the gleam of golden eyes.

Bane. I exhaled, a knot in my chest loosening. Had I really been worried that he wouldn’t arrive when I was terrified of what was to come?

But I hadn’t seen him all day, and our last exchange had been… less than friendly. I felt a faint burn of shame that he had heard me cry, and thought it was because of him.

I did my best to muster up a smile, but the presence of so many vampires was unnerving, and it wobbled and fell.

Bane stepped closer, on the other side of the fountain, and then I saw him in the light spilling from the castle and almost recoiled.

He had been monstrous when I first laid eyes on him, but this… the primitive lines of his face were even more bestial now, exaggerated into sharp peaks and valley. His lips could not fully close over his fangs; his body had thickened, plates of armor-like cartilage warping the shape of his shirt.

My heart started racing again, and I reminded myself that he had left me paper and a book. He had done it from the kindness of his heart; there was more to be seen in him than met the eye.

Took you long enough, I signed, trying for a hint of playfulness, to show that I wasn’t afraid of him.Were you having second thoughts?

He did not meet my gaze. I lowered my hands, reknotting them in front of myself. He didn’t understand; that was fine. Everything would be fine.

The fiend moved closer, slowly; there was something in his posture that spoke of nervousness, his shoulders held higher as though in defense.

He raised his hands, displaying dark claws that had been hastily cut down and filed to bluntness, and I just managed to not flinch.

And then he made words, his large, powerful hands clumsy in forming them, but still legible to me.

Not fear. Not hurt… you. Marry me.

The last one might have been ‘cats’, his thumb crooked a little too low, the gesture performed awkwardly, but I was sure he meant ‘marry’.

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